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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824117">Plagued</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredArts/pseuds/TiredArts'>TiredArts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Exo Recall AU, Gen, Multi, Other, Strong Language, Unconventional Guardians AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 06:09:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredArts/pseuds/TiredArts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange plague strikes the City's Exos, forcing heroes to venture into the wilds and find a cure before it's too late.<br/>On Titan, a peace negotiation goes awry when one of the ambassadors falls ill...<br/>Trouble brews under the icy sheets of Hella's Basin, and for once it isn't the bugs.</p><p>Follow the adventures of Fireteam Titularity as they attempt to save the ones they love, and the fate of the solar system as a whole.</p><p>Note: this fic takes place in an AU with Unconventional Guardians, an active Exo Recall, and the Europa Deepstone Crypt. Started during Season of the Worthy<br/>Warnings: swearing, lore spoilers, graphic depictions of violence and/or gore, major character death, angst, existential crises, and horror themes. Y’know, the usual for this fandom :p</p><p>UPDATE- I’ve been a bit inactive on this, and I apologize. <br/>I’ve decided to move the DSC back to Europa instead of Enceladus. We know more about it than Enceladus, which makes things a helluva lot easier on me lmao<br/>Also, there’s a special guest in this story. I wanna see if y’all can figure out who it is before I introduce them fully :3</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Barfight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Bonnie? Bo- BONNIE!”<br/>
Kita rammed her shell into Bonnie-21’s shoulder and jolted her Guardian awake. Bonnie shook her head as she came to, her antennae wiggling comically. She had set aside her Swordflight helmet when she had settled down to sleep, and hastily pinned down her antennas and put it on when she noticed the entire den staring at her.</p><p>Taking a nap in a Hunter’s Den was always risky- the threats of pickpockets and gunfights were constant, and even though they were established as relaxation places, most of them now held home to the shadier folks who didn’t have to worry about the Dare.<br/>
Bonnie-21 was one of those people. She was a Crucible slayer extraordinaire, dabbling in Iron Banner and Trials when bored. She had earned the gilded blades on her elbows and mastered them, becoming a lethal, lightning-charged whirlwind whenever she let the Light flow through her.</p><p>The Vanguard knew better than to put someone like Bonnie in the hot seat. Her temper rested on the edges of the blades she used so violently, and she had a tendency to blow tiny arguments out of proportion.<br/>
Besides, the Vanguard had bigger fish to fry- getting the City’s recon Hunters to do their jobs in the first place. Nobody was reporting in from the outer reaches, no doubt avoiding the same Dare that got the previous two Hunter Vanguards perma-killed.</p><p>Now back to reality, Bonnie-21 turned to her ghost and mentally told her to get in the backpack. Kita was like Bonnie in a lot of ways- small, spunky, always raring for a fight, and smart. The kind of smart that made all Hunters famous for trouble.</p><p>Nonetheless, Kita obliged, vanishing in a glimmer of transmat. A Dredgen-like Hunter looked down from their hammock and glared at Bonnie suspiciously, while a Reckoner slowly backed away from the brewing scuffle. </p><p>“What did I say?” Bonnie asked, confused as to why everyone was staring daggers at her. “Did I start cursing someone out?”<br/>
The Dredgen nodded to the contrary. “Said something about Europa,” they hissed through their rebreather. “Thought I heard some Russian in there, too.”<br/>
A small Psion raised his hand and gestured to the massive Knight guarding the door. “You’re gonna need to explain this, kiddo, or Roark here is gonna drag your ass to the Praxics.”</p><p>Great. Roark and Bal’akan were there that night. Those two were inseparable, and ran a smuggling and fighting ring in the Old Tower Hangar, and the Hunter’s Den that Bonnie was currently in- the Wishful Dragon.<br/>
Roark was a Risen Krill Knight who ran a Bubble Titan build. He also acted as Bal’akan’s personal bodyguard.<br/>
Bal’akan himself wasn’t actually an active Guardian, but instead a member of an elite force who used his powers and the title of his clan for his own gains. He was small, even for Psion standards, but made up for it in cunning and malice.</p><p>“Sorry, Bal,” Bonnie said sheepishly. “It’s okay. I just had a nightmare, that’s all.”<br/>
“Sounded awfully odd to just be a nightmare,” Roark said from his post, not turning to address her. “If I had half a brain, I’d say you’ve been hit by the plague goin’ round…”</p><p>With that, two nearby Exos choked on their drinks and stumbled out of the Den. The frame on the other side of the bar counter beeped and flashed a hologram from its red eye- “Get them before they leave- they haven’t paid yet!”</p><p>Roark chuckled and turned to the frame, three eyes shining with malicious intent.<br/>
“There’s a lot more to worry about than an unpaid tab, buddy. Go back to sorting the shot glasses, will ya? I’ll handle this…”</p><p>The frame blipped and went back to work. Roark walked over, leaned close to Bonnie’s angular face and sneered. He placed his massive, three-clawed hand on her elbow, pinning the hidden Swordflight blades down.<br/>
“Now, wanna try that again, little missy?”<br/>
Bonnie leaned back and proceeded to ram her metal forehead into Roark’s chitinous crown, chipping it slightly and sending him reeling backwards. He slammed into an old wooden pool table and roared, calling for backup.</p><p>Bonnie reached for her hand cannon, only to find it missing. She had forgotten- the bar had a no-draw policy, strictly enforced by Roark and the bartending frames. She chirped in disgust and grabbed a knife off a nearby table. If she was going down, she’d be taking Roark with her.</p><p>“You little roach,” Roark growled, now back on his feet. “You’ll pay for that.”</p><p>Bonnie crossed her arms and flipped out the Swordflight blades, sliding them into place with a quiet shhnk.<br/>
“Bold words from the bug,” she retorted. “I’ve heard that some beetles can last 15 minutes without a head.”<br/>
She pointed the table knife at Roark teasingly. “Wanna see how your numbers stack up to that?”</p><p>Roark charged, fists swarming with Void energy. Bonnie deftly dodged his blows, and rammed her elbow into Roark’s exposed neck. The knife dug deep into the flesh, stealing Roark’s breath with agony and grace.<br/>
The fight had barely begun, and Bonnie had already ended it. She shook her arm, sliding Roark’s corpse off of her. </p><p>After wiping the green blood off on her cape, she stood up straight and spread her arms wide. “Anyone else? No? Well, let that be a lesson- let sleeping Exos lie.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hoo boy Bonnie is screwed<br/>also Roark and Bal'akan are dicks<br/>Don't forget that Dredgen btw</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Afterparty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bonnie had waked calmly out of the den unopposed after the violent charade. She knew that Roark would be back for her, but that didn’t concern her- She’d just cut him down again, and again, until he eventually hammered the idea into his skull. </p><p>That thought didn’t stay prominent for long, though. Cold arms embraced her from behind, shocking her into a panicked stillness. A cheery voice filled her ears as the hug tightened.<br/>
“Hey! Where have you been?”</p><p>Bonnie relaxed slowly. “Hey, Ekkie. Just been scouting the dens for Zav. He’s still hunting for someone to fill that Vanguard chair.”<br/>
Ekira turned Bonnie in her arms, pulling her into a friendly embrace.<br/>
Bonnie winced as Ekira’s bond dug into her ribs. “Please tell me you got the perpetual coldness thing diagnosed,” Bonnie grunted through strained breaths. </p><p>For a Warlock, Ekira had amazing strength- combined with her relatively bulky frame, it wouldn’t be entirely misunderstood to assume she was a Titan instead, if it weren’t for the class items. But Bonnie didn’t care- big shoulders meant big hugs, and big hugs meant time with Ekkie.</p><p>Ekira held Bonnie at arm’s length and beamed. “Sure did! It’s just the Void combined with being dead. Nothing to worry about!”<br/>
“So, I’m still the space heater to your AC unit?” Bonnie laughed lightly, channeling Solar Light into her back to help warm herself up. “Well, diagnosis is always a start to the repair sequence.”</p><p>“And I thought you were the machine-y one!” Ekira joked, patting Bonnie’s head.<br/>
Bonnie smirked, her antennae laying low. “We get out of this courtyard- and to somewhere a little more private- and I’ll show you all of this machine.”<br/>
Ekira arched an eyebrow as Bonnie stood on her toes to kiss her. The forwardness was absolutely a Hunter thing.<br/>
Nonetheless, Ekira smiled and accepted it. “Your place or mine?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hehe zombie lesbians :3<br/>Bonnie-21 is a middle-tree Gunslinger, and Ekira is a bottom-tree Voidwalker</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Martian Manhunters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gunfire echoed throughout the valley, screams cut short by the hissing of severed rebreathers and the gargling of blood-choked throats. The air shimmered with heat and humidity, the ice vaporizing where the terrors- and their hunters, standing in defiance- dared to tread.</p><p>Bitrik Juranok- leader of the fireteam that was making quick work of these monsters- stepped from the shadows and dug his twin daggers into the ribs of a Thrall, consuming and damning it to the Void in a pulse of purple fire.<br/>
Beside him glided his partner, the Dawnblade Enjik-3, who cast aside her rifle in favor of a blazing sword. She took to the skies on ember wings, launching volleys of flame at the beasts below her. </p><p>Their lethality synergized in a blinding torrent of hellfire, pushing back the forces of the Hive that made the mistake to approach a vital foothold.</p><p>Bitrik grabbed a Knight by the crown and slammed it against a wall, sending green-grey blood splattering across his helmet. A Thrall lunged and scratched his side, claws digging into the embroidered fabric of his armor. Bitrik yelled in pain and stabbed the Thrall, killing it instantly. </p><p>The Arc energy from its claws slightly numbed the rended flesh, and as Bitrik evaluated his wound, the lightning chained to the barrel of his gun. The metal prongs of the Riskrunner sparked to life, vibrating and humming a triad of notes that Bitrik had come to associate with a massacre. He smiled beneath his helmet and sidestepped another Thrall, lighting it up with the Riskrunner at the end of his spin.</p><p>“Field units,” a friendly voice called through the com-set, “be advised that the Hive have begun summoning an Ogre near your location.”</p><p>Enjik swore under her breath and turned on her radio.<br/>
“Ana, this is Enjik. We’re gonna need some backup for that Ogre. BJ and I are the only ones not waiting for rez. Sovaniks and Quintuple are down, and Qui’ora is still en-route from the Dynamo.”<br/>
Enjik looked over to the towering spire of the Escalation Protocol, a plan forming. “How’s Red’s connection down here?” she asked. ”Maybe he can send us a little bit of firepower?”</p><p>The faint sound of typing came through the radio as Ana Bray checked Rasputin’s status. After a little bit, she chimed in, “He’s sending a Frame your way. Valkyrie systems are still active on Io, so that module is unavailable; But thanks to your friend over on Devrim’s side, Big Red’s got a few backup players.”</p><p>A blast of red lightning arced from the Escalation spire, zapping a few wandering Acolytes to make room for a Warsat. The massive metal orb crashed from the heavens and cracked open, revealing a robotic figure curled inside.</p><p>Ana called through the radio amidst a burst of interference. “Dammit! Impact knocked down Red’s connection to that Warsat. Gonna need someone out there to reconnect it before it can start working.”<br/>
“Already on it,” Bitrik yelled, barreling towards the Warsat. “Keep Sovaniks and Quintuple from getting perma-killed, and bring them back in action if you can!”</p><p>Enjik nodded and ran towards a pair of Ghosts at the edge of the valley. Their charges were sprawled at the base of a cliff, bodies broken and bloodied. Enjik winced as she dared a glance down. After coming back to her senses, she hauled the bodies up the cliff, and helped the Ghosts to find their Guardians and stitch them back together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>new characters!<br/>Enjik-3 is a bottom-tree Dawnblade, and BJ is a top-tree Nightstaker with the Dragon's Shadow chestpiece</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Failure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hehe feels incoming</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sovaniks, a young Cabal Striker, was the first to get to his feet. Arc energy coursed across his legs as he stood, fists crackling like thunder. He nodded a “thank you” to Enjik, grabbed his rifle from the transmat well, and rushed to Bitrik’s side in a streak of blue light.</p><p>Quintuple’s Ghost, Selena, was struggling to piece together her Guardian. She was still new to being an active Ghost, and hadn’t gotten used to resurrections yet. Enjik kneeled next to the little Light and smiled, patting her top-most petal.<br/>“It’ll be okay, trust me. Just puff up like you’re scanning something, and channel the Light through yourself. You can do this.”</p><p>Selena nodded and turned to her charge, swelling and bathing her Guardian in Light. Quintuple, Selena’s Vex Guardian, sat up suddenly, clearly distressed. He looked to Enjik, then to his Ghost, who was in her own little world, spinning with pride.<br/>“I brought you back again,” Selena chirped. “You’re back in the fight!”</p><p>Quintuple lurched forward, landing in Enjik’s arms with a thud. His single eye sputtered and shook, blinking in random time. Radiolaria dripped from his chest and splashed on the Martian sands as he wailed in distress.<br/>Selena stopped spinning and looked down at her Guardian. Her shell shifted with worry as Quintuple convulsed and screamed.</p><p>“What’s wrong?! Oh Light, what happened?! It worked the first time!”<br/>Enjik cradled Quintuple’s crest in her arms, sadly looking up to Selena.<br/>“Faulty resurrection,” she explained. “It’s okay- we’ll force a death and try again.”</p><p>Selena puffed up in horror at the suggestion, clearly appalled by the implications of her Guardian dying again. She began to object, then stopped. The dire straits of the battle suddenly dawned on her- Quintuple was needed, and there was no way he could fight like this.</p><p>“Okay,” she finally said, turning sheepishly. “I don’t know if this’ll work a second time though…”<br/>Enjik laid Quintuple’s twitching head down and stepped back to give Selena room to work. She held her hands to her mouth, breathing quietly.<br/>The same thing happened again. And again the third time. Quintuple’s frame seemed to reject the Light violently every time, each attempt more horrific than the last.</p><p>Enjik stopped Selena’s fourth attempt. She shook her head in silence as Quintuple’s eye faded to black.<br/>“It’s over, Selena. His body can’t contain the Light without a total system failure.”</p><p>Selena sagged in midair, retracting her shell. Defeated, she flew up to Enjik and asked her, “What now? I can’t bring him back, and there aren’t any lightless left on this planet.”</p><p>“Stay with us,” Enjik offered. “We’ll keep you safe, and transmat Quin’s body to the Cryptarchs for a proper evaluation. In the meantime, we’ll finish up this Escalation and drive the Hive back into their burrows. You could be a real help with that.”</p><p>“How so? A Ghost without a Guardian is just a liability and a target-”</p><p>“And a friend.”</p><p>Selena shut up. Enjik’s heartfelt comments had swayed her, but there was still that gnawing feeling inside. Enjik placed a transmat beacon down beside Quintuple’s body and nodded to Selena to start the process of sending him home.</p><p>“Goodbye, Quin,” Selena whispered, for once longing for the ability to cry- to feel, to hold, to really <em>be there</em> in Quin’s last moments.</p><p>It was over almost as soon as it began. The white glow of the beacon swallowed Quin whole, and as his body reformed as simple digits, Enjik could’ve sworn she heard Selena choke back tears.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hard Pass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bitrik climbed atop the Warsat with a set of well-timed Hunter hops and assessed the situation around him. The Hive appeared to be retreating into a narrow cave to the northwest, and Enjik was handling Quintuple and Selena’s…. situation. Sovaniks had gone down again, likely trying to Thundercrash a pack of Cursed Thralls. </p><p>Bitrik sighed. The blueberries never learned, did they?</p><p> </p><p>His various wounds had stitched together with Light, save for the one on his side- He wanted that one to scar for a cool story later. His Ghost- a round friend named Optic- really hated doing that, but he didn’t really have a choice, seeing as how Bitrik was a stubborn dumbass who’d go out and get himself killed over the perfect shot.</p><p>For being the “Chosen One,” Bitrik didn’t have a single functioning brain cell in him dedicated to thinking things through. He’d killed gods and royalty with sheer luck and his trusty Riskrunner; but without Optic, he’d be six feet under- six hundred times over.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t stupid, however. He just lacked foresight, which was surprising, given his Gunslinger roots. Optic always said it was “a goddamned miracle” that Bitrik didn’t die his final death the minute he first resurrected him. There had been <em> so many explosions </em> that the Vanguard personally showed up in the Cosmodrome to investigate. Lo and behold, all they found was Bitrik, crispy and confused but otherwise okay, sitting in a pile of exploded barrels.</p><p>Cayde had basically taken him in right then and there.</p><p> </p><p>A floating Hive in his peripherals snapped him back to the present. Some poor Acolyte had gotten too close to Sovaniks’s thunder-charged resurrection, and paid the price- its body basically turned into a twisted kind of hot air balloon due to the immense heat and pressure, and combined with the paracausal forces of the Light, gravity struggled to keep it grounded for long.</p><p> </p><p>Bitrik chuckled and nudged the creature aside, sending it spiraling into the wall of the bridge with a disgusting splat. </p><p>“Hey, Sova!” Bitrik called, waving his gun in the air to get his compatriot’s attention. “Ya launched another one! How many times does the Vanguard have to say it- no breaking reality! You want to get spiked like a Wishdragon?”</p><p> </p><p>Sovaniks vaulted up to the top of the bridge to find more enemies to murder before his Super ran out. As he crested the ridge, he yelled his reply- “Hard pass.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sovaniks is a middle-tree Striker Titan<br/>Bitrik is dumb. Main boi, but dumb and kind of insensitive</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Single-File Lines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the Escalation Protocol had completed, Bitrik and Enjik made their way back to the Futurescape. Ana always held post-mission debriefings, and while they weren’t completely necessary, Rasputin always seemed just a tad… <em>crankier</em> whenever they skipped out.</p><p>But there was no way they’d be able to avoid this one. They had a permanent death happen on their watch, and Ana had the right to know what went down.</p><p> </p><p>Ana turned from her post as Bitrik approached. Enjik stayed by the foyer’s entrance, crouched in a scout’s posture. The Hive and Red Legion fiercely fought over this territory, and while Rasputin was perfectly capable of deploying Yellowjacket frames to guard the doors, Enjik preferred to keep watch herself.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, BJ. How’d the mission go?”</p><p>She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from Bitrik’s own mouth. “Heard things got pretty rough out there. What wave did y’all get to?”</p><p> </p><p>“Final escalation,” Bitrik grunted, hopping up to perch on a stack of crates. “Lost Quin, and Qui’ora was too late to be useful. What was she doing that made her so late, by the way?”</p><p>Jinju, Ana’s Ghost, popped out and asked, “‘Lost’ as in missing?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, final death. Too many faulty resurrections fried him. We shipped him to the tower already, but I’ll give you the post box if you wanna send a letter or something.”</p><p>Bitrik shifted his position on the boxes, crossing his legs and resting a sleeping Optic in his lap. Fast-travelling always drained the little guy.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to be so passive-aggressive, y’know,” Ana said, eyes narrowing into a glare. “I would’ve been there if Red hadn’t had issues.”</p><p>“What kind of issues was it this time? Another ‘faulty server’ like last week?”</p><p>“That was real and you know it.” Ana huffed at the accusation. “But no, it wasn’t something like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then what was it? We could’ve used you out there, Ana. Maybe Quin wou-“</p><p>“Stop it. I see what you’re doing, and none of us could’ve predicted or stopped what happened. Raising Vex has always been a fickle science.”</p><p> </p><p>Ana closed her laptop and sighed, resting her head in her arms.</p><p>“If you really want to know, ask Qui’ora. She’s down in the Mindlab, talking to Red about her discovery.”</p><p>“Wait, ‘discovery’? That’s why she was late- she was digging through the servers?”</p><p>“No, she was working with the Yellowjackets to repair the Warsat cannon over there. It’s still down from when you killed Xol. She found the files on accident, and stayed late to deliver them to me personally.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitrik jumped down from the boxes, landing in a three-point crouch. His cloak rippled like waves over shallow water as he stood and descended the lobby’s stairs.</p><p> </p><p>“Send a ping to Qui’ora,” he said, not turning. “Tell her to meet me in the Dynamo.”</p><p>Ana shook her head. “No can do. She’s demanded radio silence about the subject. Doesn’t want the Vanguard in on this, it seems. Also explains why she didn’t just send me the file directly, now that I think about it…”</p><p>“What?! What could be so sensitive that she couldn’t just send it to you?”</p><p>“You’d have to go down and ask her yourself. All that she told me over the radio was that I ‘should look into the past,’ whatever that means.” <br/><br/></p><p>Bitrik paled- He knew what that meant. And it didn’t sit right with him one bit.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>FYI the Yellowjackets are those Rasputin frames in the Seraph Bunkers<br/>They look like Redjacks, and work like bees in a hive. Therefore, yellowjackets.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Titan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ristrek and Kirik -two Fallen brothers- discover remnants of a long-forgotten, dark secret beneath the waves of Titan...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kirik is different from his brother in a lot of ways. He’s small and wiry despite having a decent supply of Ether, and hyper as all get-out. While Ristrek’s the calm negotiator and strategist, Kirik is the energetic Arcstrider scout whose mind races a mile a minute.<br/>Kirik had lived with the Devil Splicers in Old Russia as a Dreg prior to his resurrection, and was killed for trying to leave. His little peg legs and docked arms had never healed over, even when his Ghost had downed him and brought him back multiple times. Something about his old SIVA augmentations made the amputations more permanent than he’d hoped.</p><p>Ristrek is the polar opposite. He travelled with the House of Wolves before his death in the Reef, and had been resurrected in the harsh plains of the Tangled Shore.<br/>He’s a massive Captain, his bulky frame being the perfect pair to his Defender Shield in battle.</p><p>Neither of them had any goddamn clue how they were related, but the Cryptarchs had run tests that confirmed it. They also had another brother- Tithariks- but his location was unknown after a series of strikes gone wrong.<br/>Maybe this meeting could shed some light on his whereabouts…</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A dark shape passed behind the glass, long and jagged. Rain hammered the roof as the power flickered. The beast in the methane ocean had bumped the breaker box, temporarily sending the hall into dusk-like darkness.</p><p>Five figures huddled around a table littered with papers, tablets, and maps. A small lantern swung overhead, dead as of hours ago. Disgusting, glowing Hive egg sacs hung from the rafters, adamant about staying there no matter how many bullets the ambassadors had shot at them.</p><p> </p><p>Kirik’s armor flashed to life, illuminating the assembly in red light in addition to the unearthly yellow glow from the Hive eggs. <br/>“Everyone okay?” he asked. “Nobody got hurt in that surge?”</p><p>The other members shook their heads in almost-unison. The sparking of the Golden-Age consoles hadn’t hit anyone significantly, and none of them intended on leaving anytime soon- Not until their treaty had been decided.</p><p> </p><p>This meeting was to negotiate trade and territory between the Fallen and Humans who lived on Titan’s shattered Rigs. <br/>Representing the Light-Kelled Fallen were Ristrek and Kirik, two brothers reborn under the Traveller. Misraaks was unable to attend because of the recent Devils insurgencies, so they showed, being the closest to him available.</p><p> </p><p>Ristrek placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You can turn off your armor- these Hive bulges give off enough light for now. I’ll go topside and give the power box a bit of… <em> percussive maintenance </em>.”<br/>Kirik’s four eyes narrowed, a small grin forming under his mask. “You mean kicking the shit out of it? I’d wager that I’d be better for that job, seeing as how I don’t have nerves in my legs.”<br/>Ristrek paused, taken aback that Kirik actually had a point. “Yeah, okay,” he stuttered, turning back to the gathered ambassadors.</p><p> </p><p>“Everything will be okay,” he said, his voice booming over the crashing of the waves above. “My compatriot here will go and fix the power.” <br/>Kirik waved jauntily, his mechanical foot tapping quickly. <br/>Ristrek growled out the corner of his mouth, “He should only be gone but a moment.”</p><p>Kirik got the hint. He flashed a tiny salute to the assembly and jumped up to a ledge, crawling into a vent to reach the surface.<br/>Ristrek turned back to the table and rested his lower arms on the cold metal.</p><p>“Once we have this placed portioned out, I swear to Light that I’m gonna gut the power generators and have them completely replaced. This shit happens way too often for my liking.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Kirik wiggled through the narrow vents, his eyes glowing and adjusting to the murky darkness. “The only benefit to my augmentations”, he thought gloomily as he dropped into a junction.</p><p>This room was a bit bigger than the vents- such so that he could stand in a low crouch. Old consoles and computer towers lined the walls, blinking with hundreds of unread alerts and warnings. Wires hung from the ceiling and swung like snakes from branches, sparks for fangs and eyes. It was cold here- way colder than he’d expected from a ventilation shaft.</p><p>Hive gunk had jammed what looked to be the main entrance to the room, leaving the only passage the vents above. A rusted office chair sat under a desk, covered in cobwebs and spiky Hive protrusions.</p><p>Kirik drew his dagger, on edge. Where there was Hive gunk, there were actual, dangerous Hive enemies. <br/>He was also hopelessly lost.</p><p><em> “Kar sloat,” </em> he swore to himself. “I knew I should've grabbed a map from Sloane before all of this.”</p><p>His Ghost, Adorak, emerged from its pocket backpack and scanned the boxes silently. Nothing unusual, it reported, beyond the Hive sedime-</p><p>
  <strong> <em>*CLANG*</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Kirik whipped around, knife held out in front of him. Adorak hid in his hood and chirped nervously. Nothing was changed near him- that means the noise must’ve come from the other side of the door...</p><p>“Who’s there?!” Kirik called, fear leaking into his voice. “Show yourself!”<br/>Adorak turned in its little hood pocket and said, “Probably Hive. We should get out of here.”</p><p> </p><p>Kirik ignored him and began scraping away the Hive sediment at the base of the door. He stopped halfway through, stood back, and huffed. <br/>“This isn't going to work,” he growled. “I need to cut through the door itself.”</p><p> </p><p>An idea suddenly formed- one that he doubted would work, but was worth a shot.<br/>He rolled his shoulders to relax and unsheathed his knife again, willing Solar Light into it. Golden fire swum down the length of the blade, blinding and burning. Success!</p><p>Kirik plunged the knife into the door, melting through it like warm butter. A few moments later, he had made a hole in the door big enough to walk through.<br/>“Ristrek is gonna murder me for trying out Solar Light without him,” he muttered as he crawled through the smoking entrance.</p><p> </p><p>The room on the other side was even colder and darker. None of the consoles seemed to work in here, suggested by their shadowed forms. Stringy tendrils of slime draped across the hallway and sizzled when Kirik sliced them down.</p><p>“Disgusting,” he said, shaking his foot clean of the slime. “Can’t wait until we can get the Dawnblades in here to burn it all out.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ambassador</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ristrek and Alanor have a bit of a... *heated* debate :3</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There’s no way we’ll be able to give the Generators to both factions.”</p><p>A bulky human slammed his fist on the table, glowering at Ristrek. </p><p>Ristrek sighed and pointed to the dead lamp above them, obviously unimpressed.</p><p> </p><p>“With all due respect, Alanor,” he started, clearly struggling to keep his composure, “may I ask why? We’ve both suffered through Kirik’s adventure. Having the generators maintained by both houses would allow maintenance to be started and completed much faster.” </p><p> </p><p>Alanor huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s simple- I don’t trust you any farther than your brother can toss me. I’ll eat my own hammers before I let some bug have control over this Rig-“</p><p>Ristrek chirped, interrupting Alanor’s racist spiel. “Did they bring you along just to argue? I never said we wanted control. And I would say the same thing about you humans as well, if I weren’t endowed with more wisdom than a paperclip.”</p><p> </p><p>He stood and stretched his upper arms, gesturing with his lower set. </p><p>“I hope you do remember who gave your house those fusion cells all those months ago. Kell Misraaks could’ve let you all drown, but we saw the chance to make amends. Hopefully, you will show us the same respect.”</p><p> </p><p>Ristrek stepped close to Alanor, towering over him. He leaned down and smiled, his voice quiet. </p><p>“Want to go back even further? Variks worked alongside the Queen for decades. While his recent actions have blemished that loyalty, I can remember when your house lined up to speak with him.<br/>Even when the Eliksni first arrived in Sol, we were broken and beaten. We asked for asylum, and we were met with gunfire and unrighteous hatred….”</p><p> </p><p>Trinsi popped out of Ristrek’s neck fluff. She hovered in front of Alanor, her spiky Ghost shell dangerously close to his face. “Beaten, by the same forces that now approach our doorstep once more.”</p><p>“This Rig is a bastion,” Ristrek snarled, his claws tapping the table. “The last stand against the Darkened Veil that will consume us if we do not work together. We are both Titans, Alanor. We stand as one when the waves break across the shores. Let our Light united be those shores, and the Veil shall be the waves.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alanor Rokanis is a Human Sunbreaker-Devestator Titan. His Ghost is named Goose and uses a Generalist Shell<br/>Trinsi is Ristrek’s Ghost, and uses an Orbweaver Shell with the Dusk Mine shader</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Break from the Programming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Not exactly story-relevant, but idk where to put it since it deals with this story’s characters.<br/>Based on this post:<br/>https://guardian-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/175088700831/i-headcanon-that</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bitrik Juranok (Trapper Nightstalker with Gunslinger roots) tries not to sleep, but when he does, it’s basically a coma. </p><p>Optic (he/him) sleeps in BJ’s hood or lap after fast-traveling, since it tires him out. Also -though he’d never admit it- Optic will sometimes curl up to BJ’s beard, burrowing in his scarf when he’s certain he’s asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Bonnie-21 (Blade Barrage Hunter) curls up in her cloak like a kitten, when she isn’t snuggling with Ekkie. Her antennae wiggle based on her dreams, flattening during nightmares and rapidly fluttering when she has good dreams. </p><p>Kita (she/her) perches on top of her Guardian’s head when they both fall asleep. When Bonnie falls asleep with Ekira, Kita sits on the bed frame’s mounted Ghost pad. (It’s like a cat tower)</p><p> </p><p>Enjik-3 (Sky Dawnblade) can’t join cuddle piles because of her tendency to summon her molten wings, but dammit, does she try. She also can act like a space heater during cold nights. </p><p>Ember (he/him) will do half-awake circles around Enjik’s head, often bumping into her and accidentally waking himself up.</p><p> </p><p>Ekira (Voidwalker Warlock) is naturally freezing, so she lays at the top part of the pile to act as a cold pillow. Her larger frame allows for multiple people to sit beside her. Sometimes she’ll sing lullabies to nobody in particular- this is the opposite of a problem for the pile.</p><p>When she lays with Bonnie, she usually keeps her back to the edge of the bed and sleeps on her side. Shadow saves Ekira’s bio-data before she dozes off, just in case her arm goes numb in the morning and she needs to respawn.</p><p>Shadow (they/them) joins the Hunters’ Ghosts in the cape pile in the Hangar rafters and tells scary stories if they ask- most of them are complete bullshit, or just exaggerated tales of Toland or Yor fucking up. However, they always make it back to Ekira’s flat before she or Bonnie wake up.</p><p> </p><p>Ristrek (Bubble Titan) will hold people in his four arms when he sleeps, and can’t fall asleep without a buddy. He sometimes snores if he ends up on his side. If you try to worm your way out of his grasp, he’ll probably just hold tighter and play-snarl in his sleep. </p><p>Trinsi (she/her) hurls herself into an old dart board to stick the spikes on her Orbweaver shell, then falls asleep dangling off the wall.</p><p> </p><p>Kirik (Current Arcstrider) cannot sleep. Between his SIVA mods and caffeine addiction, he acts like a constant charge of Arc energy. BJ sometimes let him punch him to proc his Riskrunner’s intrinsics.</p><p>Adorak (it/its) will hide in its pocket backpack- not very social, that one.</p><p> </p><p>Tithariks (Whisper Bladedancer) can only fall asleep in the dark. It’s not uncommon for Fireteam Titularity’s bunker systems to go offline because he Arc discharged in a vent because of a nightmare. </p><p>PD (they/them) lays by their Guardian’s side to help him stay grounded- both literally and mentally.</p><p> </p><p>Alanor (Destructor Sunbreaker) sleeps with his helmet on and his hammer under a pillow, just in case. </p><p>Goose (he/him) sleeps in a special, hollowed-out shoulder plate. His petals twitch when he sleeps (it’s fuckin adorable)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I just wanted to write some soft stuff, ok?<br/>Ghost pronouns included for clarity</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Technical Limitations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bitrik edged his way towards the Dynamo, keeping an eye out for wandering Hive. </p><p>“Qui’ora, whatever you found better be worth this cold,” he grumbled to himself as he approached the massive walls of ice and slid his Shining Sphere launcher over his shoulder.<br/>Crystals of ice crunched under his feet as he descended the slopes to the server rooms, memories of Xol flooding back to his mind. <br/>Once he reached the platform at the edge of the cliff, Optic popped out of his pocket backpack and scanned the room. </p><p>“Qui’ora said she’d be waiting for us here,” he said skeptically, shifting his shell with worry. “Is she still walking he-“<br/>Optic was cut off by an unearthly screech from the server room’s rafters. The sound reverberated through Bitrik’s spine as he dared to glance upwards.<br/>The frigid glare of a Hive Wizard stared back, a poisonous stream charging between her claws as she floated down to face the duo. </p><p>“Shit!” Bitrik hollered, quickly fumbling to aim down sights on the launcher.<br/>He dodged backwards and tried again, but as soon as his feet hit the ground, a blinding light filled the room. The wizard screamed in pain as her head evaporated into green mist. Behind the smoldering corpse stood Qui’ora, her single-eyed Nighthawk helm glaring at Bitrik as the flames of her Golden Gun evaporated.</p><p>“You’re late,” the Psion pointedly said, spinning her hand cannon as she turned to the next hallway. “Hurry up- we have much to discuss.”</p><hr/><p>Lights blinked on the server racks like swarms of angry bees, beeping hundreds of alerts that nobody knew how to solve. Qui’ora quickly led Bitrik and Optic to the center of the room and placed her tiny hand on the server vent.</p><p>“Remember when you and Ana scanned this place a while back?”<br/>“Yeah,” Bitrik responded slowly, “and we didn’t see anything that was so secretive that it couldn’t be shared over the Vanguard comms.”</p><p> </p><p>Qui’ora huffed and drew a sword, wedging it into the edge of the vent’s grate.<br/>“Obviously you didn’t look hard enough,” she grunted, putting her entire body’s weight on the sword’s handle and popping the vent open with a hiss of steam. </p><p>Qui’ora passed the sword to her Ghost, Transcript, who quickly transferred it to her vault. She stepped aside to let Bitrik see the new opening and smiled slyly under her mask.<br/>“Now, look down there and tell me what you see.”</p><p> </p><p>Bitrik obliged, staring down into the depths of the exposed vent. Red veins coursed along the walls of the system, braiding and writhing as they vanished into the shadows.<br/>“SIVA,” he said breathlessly. “But how? I thought all SIVA on Mars was restricted to the Meridian Bay?”</p><p>Qui’ora shrugged and sat on the edge of the vent. “I have no idea. Maybe the Splicers followed a tunnel here and died before they could set up another outpost? The Hive and Fallen don’t exactly like each other, after all.”<br/>“This is bad, Qui. If the Vanguard doesn’t know about this, who knows what else has slipped under our radar?” He winced as Qui’ora shifted her legs. “ Also, can you please get off that thing? We can’t have you falling in there- we don’t know if that shit’s still live.”</p><p> </p><p>Qui’ora laughed and let her feet dangle down into the vents. “Stuff it, Beetles,” she scoffed, using Bitrik’s most-hated nickname. “I’ll be fine. Transcript has my bio-data saved, so even if I do fall down, you can just vaporize me!”<br/>“I’d rather it not come down to that,” Bitrik said, gently placing a hand on her knee. “Let’s just grab a jar of this shit and head back to the Cryptarchy.”</p><p>Qui’ora huffed, her small shoulders sagging. “Fine.”</p><p>She grabbed a Hunter’s knife from her belt and carefully prodded the swarming mites, keeping her hand steady as they crawled up the blade like disturbed wasps. <br/>In her other hand, she raised a metal vial- an Ether canister, empty but not useless.</p><p>Bitrik’s left eye twitched as Qui’ora brought the knife up to the vial and gingerly tapped the SIVA into it. </p><p>“Careful,” he slowly hissed, absentmindedly gnawing at his hood’s drawstrings to keep his nerves at bay.<br/>Qui’ora shot a death stare at him. “I’m <em> being careful </em>, you moron. What does this look like to you, a fucking puddle?” She turned back to the nest and wiped the edge of the knife on the canister. “No- this is like doing surgery on a bomb with a pair of tweezers.”</p><p>Qui’ora snapped the lid shut on the Ether canister and held it up to the warm orange lights. The SIVA squirmed within like tentacles, furiously slamming against the clear sides for its container- it was angry, and it wanted to return to the swarm that was so very close but unreachable.</p><p> </p><p>“Nasty lil’ bugger, ain’t ya?” Bitrik whispered to the mites, leaning over Qui’ora’s shoulder to get a good look. <br/>Now that the danger had passed, his entire persona shifted. Leaning back, he snarled and jerked his thumb to the rest of the hive. </p><p>“I still remember when I burned the Replication Complex. Sometimes at night, I still hear their mechanical screams, their war cries and promises of vengeance echoing through the Tower vents...”<br/>Qui’ora elbowed his gut. “Shut it, you. Just because you have that fancy Dredgen name tag doesn't mean you get the edge-lord pass. And everyone knows that SIVA can’t talk- you’re just re-skinning that Kinderguardian’s tale about the Vex whispers.”</p><p>“Whatever you say, Qui,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He laughed evilly and curled his fingers like claws as he spoke. “Just don’t come crying to me when those red vines leak from the ceiling and slither through your nose slits to eat your brains.”</p><p>Qui’ora paled under her mask but kept her outward composure. “I said <em> shut it </em>. Let’s just get back to Ana and tell her what we found. Hopefully this won’t impact Rasputin’s abilities.”</p><p>Bitrik followed her out of the Dynamo, chuckling under his breath, “Now <em> she’s </em> the scared one.” </p><hr/><p>Transcript and Optic popped out of their respective backpacks and shared glances. </p><p>“D’ya think Qui is right about the whole ‘Raspie having issues’ thing?” Optic asked, his eye and shell narrowing.<br/>Transcript shook her shell- a strong “no” from her.<br/>Optic sighed and went to catch up with BJ. “Yeah, you’re right. It isn't like him to be hit with random technical limitations.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Status Report</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A discovery in the depths of the Rig, and an unsettling farewell from Sloane...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kar sloat</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Kirik swore as he vaulted over a pile of Hive rune-chitin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was deep in the Rig now- old architecture, and likely the middle of a nest. Strong, snake-like tubes pulsed along the ceiling and through the ventilation systems. A roomba beeped nearby, complaining about a full vacuum and low battery.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The air was thick with sulfur and methane, and reeked to high hell. Kirik’s rebreather hissed as it filtered whatever oxygen and ether was available. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His helmet’s HUD flickered to life, bathing his vision in green light. Too dark for color- night vision would have to do. His Ghost queued up a few bits of information at the edges of the screen-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pulse- shaky from nerves, but otherwise steady; </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ammo- 18 shots in a holstered Scout Rifle, with few mags beyond that;</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Enemies- None nearby...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That last bit had him on edge- No way the Hive would leave an area like this unguarded. He turned his head and tried to scan the room. His radar didn’t ping anything, remaining as a see-through grey disc in the upper left of his field of view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik let loose a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Addy, do you know anything about this sector?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak flitted out from Kirik’s hood and puffed its shell wide. “It’s cold as shit, I’ll say that. Cold and dark, and quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No shit,” Kirik grumbled, pinching his helmet where the bridge of his nose would be. “I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>record-wise</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Any known activity here that the Vanguard has marked? Breedings, rituals... crystallizations?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only known cases of Guardian crystallization happened shortly after the Red War.” Adorak spun as it talked. ”Most rituals happen on the surface, where they can summon Ogres and Shriekers without worrying about crushing them in narrow hallways.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik unholstered his scout rifle and aimed it at a random wall, testing the feel on its scope. An old IS 5- iron sights, short zoom, decent handling speed. A basic Call to Serve that he had grabbed from the EDZ upon his first Rez, the gun had seen better days. Then again, so had he.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak continued talking. “Now that I think about it, did we take a left or a right at an orange crystal? Because if we turned left, then we’re in uncharted territory.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great. We’re lost, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m low on ammo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kirik put the gun away and sat down, massaging his lower arm stumps. ”I doubt Ristrek would be able to find us down here. Can you signal him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll try,” Adorak offered, “but no guarantees.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak drifted above Kirik’s mohawk and flared its shell wide, forming a makeshift radar dish with its petals. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shanks,” it muttered. “No reception down here. All topside signals are fucked six ways from Sunday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak floated back down to shoulder height and kept scrolling through the coms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All I can hear is… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sloane?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> What the fuck is she doing down here…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik perked up from across the chamber. He not-so-gently set down a Hive rune and ran to his Ghost’s side, lower arms wiggling to sign Adorak in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain Sloane is all the way down here? I thought she was up in Sirenwatch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deputy Commander, and it’s Siren’s Watch. Two words…” Adorak huffed and stopped muttering to itself. “Whatever. I thought she was topside too, but look here.“ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak spun and projected a list of com channels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lo and behold, right up at the top, was Sloane’s ID and private channel, connection bar a neon green among the reds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak looked at Kirik and half-shrugged. “Channel ain’t locked. Worth a try?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik nodded, his armor’s tubes glowing and throbbing in time with his quickening pulse. Finally, an escape!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak activated its radar again, tuned in to Sloane’s signal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deputy-Commader Sloane, this is Adorak, a Ghost of the Vanguard. Guardian and Ghost requiring assistance. Do you copy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short hiss of static, then a friendly voice- “This is Sloane. What in the Traveller’s busted backside are you doing down here? You’re Thralls-deep in Hive territory.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak chuckled. “We could ask you the same thing, but we ain’t got the time. We’re lost, and you know this rust-bucket better than anyone. Willing to carry us back to the su-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hive screams roared through the coms, making Adorak flinch. Sloane swore loudly and roared in response, alongside the sound of spraying blood. Knights and Shriekers howled in the background. A battle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is a personal, restricted channel. Not an LFG forum on the VanNet. I came down here without intending to go back up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Commander?!” Adorak was aghast. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sloane growled into her headset as she slammed her armored fists down on an Acolyte’s comparatively-squishy crown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a suicide mission, Ghost. Let me make my peace by making war.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik collapsed in a crouch and covered his ears. No, no, no, this had to be a nightmare. Sloane, on a suicide mission?!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This Rig is sinking. Bitrik forwarded me Eris’ studies, and we ain’t got time for whatever you came down here for. You’re near an old cache of Golden-Age tech. Use that to get topside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak flared its shell. Now it was angry. “No, Commander. We can’t leave you down here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a shit what you don’t want to do. Get out of here, and give Zavala my regards.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goddamnit, Sloane! Please, we nee-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kirik stood up and rested a clawed hand on Adorak’s shell. The light in his eyes was dim, hope replaced by desperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Addy, that’s enough- She’s too stubborn to go back now. Commander, this is Guardian Kirik. What’s the coordinates on that tech?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should be somewhere on that floor,” Sloane grunted. “Not sure exactly where, but you’ll see it. Bright red and black boxes, angular shapes. Probably was used to build this place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik clawed at the tarps on the walls, tearing them down. He turned boxes upside down and watched their contents tumble out. It was almost therapeutic…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until it wasn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sloane, did you cross-reference this stuff with the Vanguard?” Kirik’s voice caught in his throat as he stared at the tech at his metal feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Too big to haul out, and I couldn’t get a signal down there. Why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik gulped down his anxiety and grabbed a node. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No reason,” he responded as he turned the SIVA in his hands. “Just…. just wondering.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Metal Gut Feeling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bitrik checked his boots for mites, then entered the main Braytech hall with an air of caution. Ana was, as always, hunched over a terminal speaking to Rasputin. She tapped at a screen and squinted, muttering to herself about faulty values.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bitrik’s uncharacteristic quietness nearly caught her off-guard when he finally spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ana?” He flipped back his hood and glanced around before continuing in a hushed voice. “Qui’ora showed me what she found. It…. it isn’t good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ana turned from her terminal and crossed her arms. “Not good? Elaborate, because we’re staring down a lot of barrels right now. Nothing looks good.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bitrik withdrew the SIVA vial from a pouch on his belt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ana’s jaw dropped. “Is that what I think it is?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bitrik nodded. “SIVA. Live, angry SIVA.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was it doing at the Dynamo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit, your guess is as good as mine. Swarmed from Freehold? Rogue Splicers?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He put the vial on Ana’s desk and dusted his hands on his cloak. “Any news on your front?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Red’s on the fritz again,” Ana said, jabbing a thumb at her terminal and scowling. “He’s picking up gravitational anomalies on the edge of the system, but we don’t have any visual evidence as to why. Working theory is that he overtaxed himself on Io and fried a few Warsat scanners.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? The old man could do that?” Bitrik laughed grimly. “Let’s hope that’s the case. Still don’t know why he wanted those Seraph Towers all the way out there, but hey, he’s paying us well to do i-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A beep at Ana’s terminal cut Bitrik off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the….?” Ana muttered and tapped the screen again. “He’s saying an old node just came online- all the way out on Titan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bitrik looked over Ana’s shoulder at the scrolling reports. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Node Activated: FRAG.CONST Arcology</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck?” Bitrik narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t know Rasputin had connections to the Arco-“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The memory hit him like an orbital bombardment. A book from the Warlock Archives had mentioned something about Titan and Rasputin during the Collapse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Last Days of Kraken Mare</span>
  </em>
  <span>… ENJIK! We need your big Warlock brain- right now!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. River Styx</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirik felt the SIVA mites come online as soon as he grabbed one. It pulsed in his hands, anxiously awaiting an objective to complete. The tubes on his armor and in his legs pulsed alongside it.</p><p>Adorak floated by its charge’s shoulder and shrunk in its Servitor-like shell. It didn’t know what to say- it had succeeded in keeping Kirik from his past until now, and everything was spiraling at a dizzying speed.</p><p> </p><p>Kirik said the words before he even realized it. </p><p>Fortify. Enhance. Immortalize.</p><p>And so the SIVA roared to life. Crates and boxes exploded in chains as the nanites merged and shifted like a living thing. Coils of rapidly-forming augmentations lashed themselves to Kirik’s body, strengthening him and merging with what was already there.</p><p> </p><p>Adorak jolted backwards to avoid the tendrils and hovered in the shaking rafters. Kirik collapsed to his knees and screamed in agony as the SIVA burrowed under and consumed his flesh. </p><p>After what felt like hours of torture, the swarm grew still. Around Kirik, a throbbing, pod-shaped webbing of wires and nanites had formed. Ether-blood hissed from small vents as the transformation came to an end.</p><p> </p><p>“Kirik…?” Adorak shivered as it descended from the rafters and scanned the bulging cocoon. </p><p>“No, no, no, no- this can’t be happening,” it thought as the scanners came up blank. Whatever was under that horrific amalgamation of flesh and machine…. To Adorak’s scanners, it wasn’t Kirik anymore.</p><p>
  <span>Adorak drifted down and rested on the metal floor, withdrawing in its shell. It sat there and shuddered as it processed what it just saw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuuuuck,” it muttered repeatedly, “oh Light what the fuck just happened?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pod shivered suddenly as the once-Kirik started to life. Four three-clawed hands pierced through the cap of the pod and slowly ripped downwards, drawing the tendrils aside and forcing the monstrosity up to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak scooted backwards and buried itself under the shards of a package crate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kirik’s mangled body staggered upright and looked around. Ether-blood dripped from his rebreather and condensed on his lens-like eyes. His lower arms twitched violently, unused to being fully grown. A thin, animalistic hiss sounded from under his helmet, which was now welded to his skull- forced as one through the degenerative effects of the SIVA.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck,” Adorak whispered quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But not quietly enough. Kirik’s head snapped to face Adorak’s box, four red eyes narrowing as he crouched on all four arms and scuttled next to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak froze in terror as Kirik approached it, clicking and hissing. He reached out with a lower arm and lifted the box, revealing the small, quivering Ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Adorask, namkemraak,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kirik chirped, extending a sharp hand towards Adorak. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Velaask.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Adorak turned to face him and tilted in confusion. This once-Kirik.... was beckoning it? Kirik slid back and sat on his haunches, patting the ground in front of him with his lower arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All of a sudden, it clicked- This was still Kirik. His body was deformed, but his mind was the same. Adorak fluttered out from under the box and hovered in front of Kirik. The augmentation had made Kirk taller, it seemed- way taller. His cloak was still present, albeit in tatters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adorak curled up in its normal spot on Kirik’s shoulder, and the two began their climb back to the surface. Kirik’s arms tore through the metal and concrete of the Rig, his reinforced legs propelling him through the methane ocean.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Das nar, Adorask.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Let’s go home.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
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